Self Sacrifice
by daffodil729
Summary: After an altercation with a suspect, Steve is left facing a life-changing injury. Danny struggles with the guilt of walking away unharmed.
1. Chapter 1

"We've got a case," Steve said walking into the common area of Five-0. "A body was found in one of the fields at a pineapple plantation."

"Pineapples," Danny shuddered. "What an awful place to die."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Let's go." He looked at Beau and rubbed his ears. "You're a good boy. We'll be back soon. Office, Beau."

Beau followed the command and headed toward Steve's office, where he'd stay until the team got back. He had become a fixture at Five-0, much to the delight of Steve's teammates. Beau was a happy, friendly dog with a big personality. He spent his days trotting from office to office, allowing his owner's friends to pet him or play with one of his toys and they loved him almost as much as Steve did.

* * *

"Everything still good for Saturday?" Danny asked as they walked toward Steve's truck. Grace had wanted to have a party to celebrate Beau finishing his obedience training. He'd graduated at the top of his class, an accomplishment Danny attributed to Steve's overly competitive nature. Steve had thought it was a great, albeit hilarious, idea, and the ohana was all for it. They loved any excuse for a party. Grace had asked her Uncle Steve if they could have it at his house because of the beach, and he'd agreed. Of course, he'd agree to anything where Grace was concerned.

"Sure," he answered Danny. He grinned. "Grace texted me the menu yesterday."

Danny smiled, thinking how lucky he was that his partner loved his daughter enough to put up with her antics. "Thanks for all you do for her, and for going along with this. She's excited."

"You know I'd do anything for her."

The partners arrived at the pineapple field just after Chin and Kono, with Lou showing up just a bit later. They walked to the area already marked by crime scene tape and found Max.

"What have we got, Max?" Steve asked, slipping on gloves.

"Male victim, early thirties. The cause of death is a single gunshot wound to the chest. There appears to be defensive wounds on his arms, as well as bruising on his face. He also has bruises on his knuckles indicating that he inflicted some blows on his opponent as well."

"Maybe a fight got out of control?" Danny

Steve glanced around, and movement caught his eye near one of the buildings. Lou had noticed it as well and nodded to Steve. Steve motioned for Lou and Chin to go around the back while he and Danny took the front.

Danny was in front of Steve as they approached the building. Steve happened to look up, seeing the man with the baseball bat before Danny did. Automatic response took over as Steve shouted, "Danny!" and shoved him out of the way. The bat came down with a sickening crack against Steve's skull.

The perp took off as Danny screamed into his mic at Lou and Chin. "Steve's down! Perp's headed your way!"

Lou tackled the perp to the ground with no effort at all and signaled to HPD to come get him while Chin ran to Danny and Steve.

"Danny!" Chin shouted as he approached.

"Call for an ambulance! Hurry, Chin!" Danny cried.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Danny murmured as he knelt beside Steve's lifeless form. The amount of blood was staggering. Steve showed no signs of regaining consciousness. "Come on, buddy, come on. Open those baby blues for me. Please, Steve."

He'd never seen his partner so still. Danny panicked when he saw that blood was running from Steve's ear and nose.

"They're on the way," Chin said, finally reaching Danny. "Max is coming right now….Oh, my God." Chin dropped to the ground beside Steve.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Danny said. "It's real bad."

Chin didn't know what to say. He reached to check Steve's pulse, thankful to find one.

Danny was cradling his partner, tears dripping down his face, when Max ran up. "What happened?" he asked.

"The guy had a baseball bat. Steve saw him before me," Danny choked on his words. "He shoved me out of the way. It should've been me. Max, you gotta help him. You gotta."

Max took a quick look at the commander. "It looks like a depressed skull fracture," he said. "I know all the blood is scary, but it doesn't necessarily mean things are beyond repair. His pulse is weak, but it's steady, and respiration is okay." He lifted Steve's eyelids. "Pupils are blown and nonresponsive."

When the EMTs arrived, Max relayed the information to them, and encouraged them to get the commander to Tripler as soon as possible, and to call ahead about a TBI incoming.

"Danny, you go with him," Lou said. "We'll follow. Duke, can HPD finish up here?" He directed his question at Duke Lukela, barely pausing to hear the man's response.

"Yes, go with Steve," Duke said in concern. "Please, call me when there's word."

The members of Five-0 rushed back to their vehicles, and Chin grabbed Kono. "Kono, you have to go get Callie," he said, shaking her out of her shock. "We can't tell her this over the phone…and you're the only one who doesn't have his blood on you," he said sadly.

Kono nodded, rushing to her car and heading for Callie's office.

* * *

Danny had never been so scared in his life. The only thing that gave him peace was the steady beeping of the heart monitor. He clutched Steve's hand in desperation. "Please, brother, please hang on."

* * *

Kono arrived at the doctor's office with lights flashing, parked in the fire lane, and ran into the building. She held up her badge to the receptionist. "Officer Kono Kalakaua, Five-0. I need to speak with Dr. Callie Ryan please." She paused before adding, "Please hurry."

The receptionist rushed to get Dr. Ryan, not knowing what this was about but sensing the officer's urgency. Callie was immediately concerned to see her receptionist so nervous, and when she said something about an officer from Five-0, Callie's heart dropped. She ran to the front of the office.

"It's Steve," Kono said breathlessly. "There was an altercation with a suspect and he was injured."

Callie placed a hand over her mouth, waiting for Kono to give her more information.

"They've taken him to Tripler. Come with me."

The two women rushed out of the office and into Kono's car, not knowing what they would face when they arrived at the hospital.

* * *

Doctors were waiting as the ambulance pulled into the bay. The call ahead had allowed them time to get things ready for the patient's arrival. The staff at Tripler knew Steve and were anxious to help. They rushed Steve into a trauma room to assess the damage and form a plan.

Danny waited in the hallway helplessly.

His best friend had just saved his life, and might have given his instead.


	2. Chapter 2

The waiting was torture. The friends clung to each other, each praying and hoping for good news.

Finally, the door opened and a doctor walked in. "Commander McGarrett?" he asked as he entered.

The group stood up.

"Please, sit," he motioned for them to sit, and he sat across from them. "I'm Dr. Paul, chief of staff here at Tripler." He was an older doctor with graying hair and kind eyes. "I've been working on the commander and assessing his injuries. A CT scan confirmed what we thought—we're dealing with a depressed skull fracture. It happens when there's some sort of terrific blow to the skull, enough to cause a break. Pieces of the bone are pushed inward, and can cause a concave-type injury. At this time, there is bleeding on the commander's brain. He is in surgery now, and probably will be for several hours." He looked at them sympathetically, his eyes telling of his concern and care. "I've known Steve for a long time. His dad and I were fishing buddies." He smiled faintly. "Good men, both of them. I want you to know I've called in the very best neurosurgeons for this. He's going to pull through." He nodded as if to reassure himself as well as the group. "I know this is a lot to take in. Do you have any questions for me right now?"

"Did he regain consciousness at any time?" Callie asked.

"No, he didn't, but that may have been for the best. The pain from this type of injury is excruciating. They wouldn't have been able to give him any pain medication before surgery. It may have been a small mercy that he remained unconscious."

Callie nodded.

"What can we expect when he wakes up?" Danny asked.

"It may take him some time to come around," Dr. Paul said. "He'll have a migraine-type headache that will be, to put it mildly, terrible and constant. We'll have to manage the pain carefully. Severe nausea is to be expected, as well as vertigo. There could be problems with his speech or memory, but we won't know about that until he wakes up. We'll also be keeping an eye out for possible complications, such as leaking spinal fluid or meningitis. With injuries like this, especially with people as physically active as Steve, we'll have to watch for signs of depression, and we'll need your help with that. You may also want to begin thinking about a plan for when he's well enough to leave the hospital. On bed rest, he'll need someone there all the time."

"That won't be a problem, doc," Danny said. The others agreed with him. "How long do you think he'll be in the hospital?"

"Probably not as long as you would think," Dr. Paul replied thoughtfully. "After surgery to repair the bleed, rest and treatment of symptoms is all that can be done for a skull fracture. We'll keep him long enough to be sure those complications won't be an issue, but it's very possible he'll be home within a week or two, as long as we can find a solution for pain management." Dr. Paul stopped for a moment. "If there's nothing else right now, I'm going to go see how he's doing. I'll be back to update you soon, and, of course, you can speak to the neurosurgeons after the surgery is finished."

"Thank you," the group murmured.

After Dr. Paul walked away, the group sat silently, each lost in their own thoughts and fears about the future.

* * *

It was a long, torturous three days before Steve began to come around. Dr. Paul had waived ICU policies for the group so Steve would never be left alone, and the nurses finally stopped commenting about how many people were always in the room. They took turns going home to sleep, shower, and eat, but they never managed to stay away for long. They kept a constant vigil, talking to him and touching him, making sure he knew they were there.

On the third day, Callie and Danny were alone in Steve's room. Danny was holding his hand and filling him in on the latest Mets game while Callie played in Steve's hair.

"Callie!" Danny suddenly said. "I think he squeezed my hand!"

They immediately began talking to him. "Steve," Callie said. "Danny and I are here. Can you squeeze Danny's hand again?"

After a few seconds, Danny felt it again—it was weak, but it was there.

Callie ran to get a nurse to call Steve's neurosurgeon, as they had been instructed to do when Steve showed signs of waking. The nurses had all been invested in Steve's case, and responded with almost as much excitement as Callie and Danny. Callie returned, and the room was suddenly a flurry of activity. Syringes of pain medication were readied for the IV, as well as anti-emetics. Emesis basins were put nearby and a cup of ice chips and cool cloths were set on the bedside table.

Danny realized then how awful they were expecting it to be. He paled at that knowledge.

An older nurse squeezed his arm lightly, smiling kindly. "Are you okay, dear?"

He nodded, trying to smile. "I guess I just hoped the doctors were exaggerating when they told us how bad it would be," he said quietly.

She looked at him in sympathy. "It's going to be rough, sweetie. I'm sorry. But he needs you."

"I know. And I'll be here."

Steve whimpered from the bed then, drawing Danny's attention. His normally stoic face was twisted in pain. Not quite awake yet, he still brought his hands up to head. Steve turned on his side, curling into a fetal position.

"Ohhh," he moaned. "Ohhhh."

Danny's stomach twisted in sympathy and he rushed to the side of the bed opposite Callie.

"Babe, babe," Danny said softly. "We're here, okay? I know it hurts, but we're here."

Steve's eyes opened and then slammed shut. He made a pained noise. "Brght," he said. "Brght."

"Bright?" Callie asked.

"Mmhm," Steve groaned.

The room was nearly dark. The doctors and nurses looked at each other in sympathy. Someone grabbed a blanket and hung it over the window. "We're trying to make it as dark as we can, Steve," Dr. Paul said.

"Hurrrrs," Steve said, giving a pained whine.

"Baby, I know," Callie whispered. "The doctor needs to ask you a few questions and check your pupils, then they'll give you something for pain. But you have to open your eyes. Okay?"

"'Kay," he slurred. "'ll try."

Callie smoothed a hand over his forehead over and over again, murmuring constant reassurances while Danny grasped his hand. Callie motioned for the neurologist, Dr. Pace, to move closer.

Steve opened his eyes then, and pain like he'd never felt before slammed into him. Dr. Pace apologized before shining the pen light into Steve's eyes, and continued apologizing as he did it. Steve's breath kept hitching, and tears ran down his face. Finally, thankfully, he put the light away.

"Close your eyes for a minute, Steve," he said quietly, kindly. "Let's take a break."

Steve nodded, sobbing at this point, clutching his head. "Hurrrrs, hurrrrs, hurrrs,"

There wasn't a dry eye in the room, all of them taking on some of his pain.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," Callie whispered. "I'm so sorry you're hurting like this." She turned to Dr. Pace. "Can you give him something soon?"

"Yes," he said. "I need to ask those questions to assess any damage or inconsistencies, but I don't think he'd be able to answer them now. Everyone reacts differently to the pain caused by this kind of injury. I've never had a case this bad." He shook his head sadly.

Still clutching his head, Steve suddenly said, "Sck." The nurse was ready and quickly slid an emesis basin under his chin as he vomited. The retching only made his head hurt worse, and that, in turn, made the nausea worse. It was a vicious cycle, and one he'd be stuck in for a while.

The doctor injected pain medication into Steve's IV then, along with a stronger anti-emetic. When Steve settled a bit, the room gave a small collective sigh of relief. Callie mopped his forehead with one of the cool, wet cloths and whispered to him softly.

"He'll probably drift in and out of sleep for a while," Dr. Paul said, gently patting Callie's shoulder.

Danny leaned back in his chair, feeling drained. He rubbed his hands on his face, then looked to the doctor who was checking his patient's vitals. "Will it be this bad the next time he wakes up?"

The doctor nodded grimly. "Until we can manage the pain."

Danny had never felt so helpless in his life.


	3. Chapter 3

The doctors and nurses quietly left the room then with assurances they'd be nearby if needed. Danny and Callie continued to soothe a semi-conscious Steve.

Chin, Kono, Jerry, Lou, and Max arrived then, and Danny stepped into the hallway to update them, guiding them to a waiting room just down the hall.

Danny rubbed his hands down his face before he started.

"Brah," Chin touched his shoulder. "He woke up. It's going to be okay."

Danny gave a harsh laugh. "No, it's not. Not at all. I've seen a lot of pain in my life, but nothing I've seen came even close to comparing to what he was feeling when he woke up. Not even close." Danny's eyes filled with tears. "It was awful."

* * *

Back in the hospital room, Steve stirred slightly and blinked awake.

"Hey, there," Callie whispered, rubbing his arm and pressing the button to call the nurse. "How are you, sweetie?

"Mhh," he moaned. "Nh' gd',"

"Not good? Does your head hurt again?"

"Mmhm," his face contorted in pain.

"Hi, Commander McGarrett," a nurse said as she walked in. "Are you feeling bad?"

Steve was swallowing convulsively against the nausea, but it was no use. This time, though, he had nothing left in his stomach and only threw up a tiny bit of bile before beginning to dry heave.

Dr. Pace came into the room. "Okay, Steve," he said. "I need to ask you a few questions, then I'll give you some stronger pain meds and you can go back to sleep, okay? First, I need you to tell me your name and rank."

"Stve M'Garrt, Cmmmder, US Nvee," Steve slurred.

"Good, Steve, that's good," Dr. Pace encouraged him. "Now, can you tell me who's holding your hand?"

"C-cal."

"Great. Do you know where you are?"

Steve looked around, barely moving his eyes. "Hos'p? Trplr?"

Dr. Pace smiled and nodded. "That's right. Now, do you remember what happened?"

Steve seemed to think. "B-bat?" His heart rate began to pick up. "Dnny? Dnny? Tm?"

"No, no, calm down, Steve," Callie said. "Danny and the team are fine. They're fine, okay?"

His eyes were wide. "N-no,nno, bat."

"Steve, _you_ were the one hit with the bat," Dr. Pace explained. "You pushed your partner out of the way. He's fine, everyone's fine, except you. You're the only one hurt."

"Nno, Dnny, Dnny." He was back in a fetal position again.

Dr. Pace turned to the nurse, "Can you go find Danny and the rest of Commander McGarrett's team? Forget the visitor rules—bring them all in here. He needs to see they're okay."

"Yes, sir,"

* * *

Danny was still explaining the events of the morning when the nurse came in. He stood up, immediately anxious. Seeing his fear, Dinah quickly explained, "No, no, nothing's wrong. Dr. Pace wants you and the rest of the team to come now. The commander is awake, but is concerned about all of you and he's having a hard time believing Dr. Pace and Callie. It'll be better for him to see that you're all fine for himself." She smiled.

Danny huffed. "Of course he is! Stubborn SEAL has had his head bashed in, but is worried about us!"

Kono smiled a tiny bit. "That sounds like the boss."

As the group stood, Dinah looked at them. "I'm sure Danny has filled you in on everything that's going on. To be honest, the commander looks bad. There's a lot of pain and nausea, and he's slurring his words. We're hopeful that will straighten out soon. There's a good chance he'll be sick at some point while you're in the room. There's also a good chance he'll cry from the pain, too. If that's not something you can handle, you'll need to step out." She looked stern. "This is about him, not you. _Do not_ put him in a position where he feels like he has to console you. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lou said. The others nodded.

"Good, then," Dinah smiled and turned on her heel to lead them to Steve's room.

* * *

Danny moved to the side of the bed and sat down. "Hey, babe," he said softly. "I'm here, and I'm fine, thanks to you and your self-sacrificing SEAL antics."

"Dnny?" Steve blinked.

"Yeah, babe."

"Kay?"

"Yes, I'm okay."

"Gg-ood." His eyes fluttered shut, but opened again a few minutes later. "Tm?" he asked.

The rest of the group stepped closer. "We're fine, brah," Chin said. "Everyone is fine."

Kono stepped closer and put her face close to Steve's. "Now, you just have to get better, boss. We're good, but we're worried about you."

"'M fnn. Jus' trd," he mumbled. His eyes were closed again.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before he mumbled, "Sick," to Callie. Callie grabbed a basin and a cloth and Danny held Steve's shoulders and rubbed a circle on his back. "Srry, srry," he mumbled to the group as he retched, clutched his head, and cried quietly.

"Don't you apologize," Lou said, fighting tears of his own.

"Hurrrs."

"I know," Dr. Pace said. "We're trying to find a combination that works, Steve. We're trying." He patted Steve's hip. "I know it's hard to believe, but you really are doing better than we expected, cognitively. You're able to answer questions and you don't seem to have any memory loss. We'll get the nausea and pain under better control."

Danny noticed Dr. Pace didn't say "under control" but "under _better_ control."

"Whew," Lou breathed after Steve had fallen asleep again. "That's tough to watch."

"Yeah," Danny whispered. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

"How's my favorite patient this morning?" Dinah said cheerfully as she walked in a couple days later. "I hear they may have found a better solution for the pain?"

"Dilaudid," Callie offered. "It seems to be working better. Still not perfectly, of course, and it wears off before he can have another dose, but he's doing okay with it."

"Makes me sick, though," a very pale Steve murmured. "And loopy as hell."

Danny chuckled from his spot in the corner, earning a glare from Steve. "We know that, babe. Trust me."

"Shu'p, Danno," Steve groaned. He turned to the side and threw up again in the basin. "Fucking Dilaudid," he muttered.

"Also, Dinah, dear, the Dilaudid loosens our Navy man's tongue. Turns out, he does possess the ability to swear like a sailor. He keeps it under tight reign on normal days, but since the Dilaudid hit his system about eight hours ago, I have heard words and combinations of words I never even thought of putting together." Danny grinned wickedly.

"Idiot," Steve grumbled, rinsing his mouth and spitting. "Can't you make him leave?" he whined to Dinah and Callie. "Isn't there a hospital no fly list or something?"

The ladies laughed.

"Buddy, you're not getting rid of me for a loooong time," Danny said, moving and sitting on the edge of the bed. "When you were napping for three days, the doctors told us you would be on bed rest when you were released….as in, staying horizontal the majority of the time and will need—what was the phrase, Callie?—oh, yes, _constant care._ "

Steve made a face at him. "I don't need—"

"Do you remember that you can't even sit up by yourself? You're too dizzy."

Steve thought for a second. He knew Danny had a point. "Damn it."

"Yes, damn it. So we're developing a SEAL sitting schedule."

"Where do you come up with this shit?" Steve held up his hand. "Hang on, gonna puke." He finished, then said, "Alright, continue."

"Have we reached the point in our relationship where we're comfortable enough that you are able to pause a conversation, throw up in front of me, and then we're able to pick up the conversation again?"

"I do believe that just happened."

"Huh. I'd say that's a new level."

"Maybe."

"I'm glad you feel so comfortable with me."

Steve shrugged. "It's more of a necessity, really. At this point, if I asked you to leave every time I was going to throw up, you'd be in the hall more than you'd be in here."

Danny considered this, nodding. "That's true. We should really keep a count. You're probably breaking all kinds of records."

"Probably."

"Now, back to the conversation-you will have the opportunity to spend ample amounts of time with every member of this team, plus our girl Callie—"

"Our girl?" Steve questioned.

"Yes, she and I have bonded, even more so than before. There's nothing like taking care of a puking, crying SEAL to bring two people together, especially when they both love said SEAL—"

"I'm not into that, Danno. But I'm glad you love me. I'm still not sleeping with you though. You can stop asking me, please."

Danny sputtered. "I've never asked you to—"

"Well, not in so many words—"

"ANYWAY, STEVEN. It has been decided that Callie and I are moving in with you."

"Still not sleeping with you, Danno."

"Still didn't ask you to, Steven. SO, the point of this whole conversation was to say, No, you're not getting rid of me."

"Why couldn't you have just said that? You use too many words, Danno," Steve said with a wave of his hand. "You should have a monthly quota, then you have to stop speaking. You wouldn't make it a week, then you'd be all out of words. Wordless Danno." Steve blinked owlishly at him.

"Oh shut up. You are high as a freakin' kite."

"I am," Steve agreed. "And you still talk too much, even up here."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Whatever." The women watched Danny pull the blankets up around Steve and smooth them out. "You need anything? Ice? Water?"

"A popsicle?" Steve said hopefully.

"You got it, SuperSEAL," Danny said, heading to the door.

"Grape?" Steve asked.

"Do you promise not to freak out this time when your puke is purple?"

"Promise," Steve said seriously. "No freaking out this time."

"He's lying," Danny whispered to the ladies as he left. "He'll forget, and he'll totally freak out."

Dinah had watched the conversation like it was a ping pong match. "Are they always like this?" she asked Callie.

"Yep," Callie replied, laughing. "Always."


	4. Chapter 4

The team stopped by the nurse's station on their way to visit Steve.

"Hey, Miss Dinah," Lou greeted her. "How's our boy today?"

She looked a bit flustered and laughed. "Your boy is in rare form, Captain Grover. They found a dosage and medication that works for his pain, but it has thrown him for a loop."

"Let me guess," Chin started. "Dilaudid?"

"You got it in one," Dinah told him.

Chin shook his head. "That's the only pain medication that really works for Steve, but he doesn't handle it well."

"We've had an interesting day, that's for sure," Dinah said with a smile.

"Oh, I bet so," Kono agreed.

"Pretty sure you'll get to hear about our last experience when you get to his room," Dinah chuckled and shook her head. "Danny was just getting started when I left."

* * *

When they got to Steve's door, they could already hear Danny talking in a lecturing voice. "Before I gave you that popsicle, what did I tell you?"

"Not to freak out if my puke was purple," Steve said lowly, looking down.

"And what did you just do?"

"Freaked out." Steve was still looking down.

"You understand that you've had brain surgery, right? They don't want you to be stressed—for any reason—because it's bad for you. Like, stroke bad or something. And when I have to explain to the nice nurse-for the second time in two days-that your heart rate is through the roof because you believe you're dying because your puke is purple, it makes me look bad because I'm the one who gave you the grape popsicle _again_."

"Sorry, Danno."

"Oh, it's all right," Danny grumbled, pulling Steve into a tight hug.


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, Commander McGarrett, are you ready to go home?" Dinah asked a few days later.

"Yeah, I am." Steve answered, smiling. He was still having migraines, and the nausea was constant, but there was nothing they could do in the hospital for him that couldn't be done at home, especially under Callie's care.

"Dr. Pace wants to look at the MRI and CT results from this morning, then he'll be here to examine you one more time, and then you'll be free to go. It was a pleasure caring for you commander, and I wish you all the best." Dinah smiled, hugging him, then moving on to Callie and Danny.

"Thank you for everything," Steve said.

* * *

"Okay, Steve," Dr. Pace said. "Let's go over this one more time: Bed rest means in the bed, on the couch, or a lounge chair on the lanai as long as it's in the shade. Horizontal. You may sit at the table for meals. You can walk around some during the day, but don't overdo it…and someone has to walk with you. I want someone beside you even if you're moving from the couch to the bathroom or whatever. You can't risk falling. Dizziness is going to be an ongoing problem for a while. You _have_ to tell Callie if you have problems with your vision, or if you feel worse at any time. Just because you're going home doesn't mean you're healed or well. It's going to take months to get over this injury."

"I know." Steve knew himself well. He tired easily and was weak. The pain from the migraines rendered him useless and turned him into sickly mess. He couldn't even sit up without becoming dizzy and standing or walking without help was out of the question. Not to mention the fact that he was going home on a heavy prescription of Dilaudid and Phenergan. The Dilaudid made him extremely loopy, and the Phenergan made him sleepy. He couldn't do without either medication, so he was effectively down for the count most days.

"It's going to take patience, Steve, and I know that's going to be hard for you."

Steve sighed. "I'm sure at some point it will, but, honestly, right now I feel too bad to even want to do anything." He shrugged. "Bed sounds fine."

Callie and Danny gaped at Steve's honest assessment of his health and how he was really feeling.

"Well, good," Dr. Pace said. "Lots of rest will get you back on your feet faster than anything. No strenuous activity of any kind—nothing that will raise your heart rate. No stress. No working. No using the computer for more than ten minutes at a time—it'll make the headaches worse. You can read, but that may make the headaches worse too—same thing with tv. Just listen to your body. If it hurts, even the slightest bit, don't do it. You and I have talked about the ocean and how you feel about it—it's therapeutic for you, and I think that's important. I'm fine with 'dips', if you will. Going out to chest high or so would be fine—just try not to get the staples wet."

"Got it." Steve nodded.

"Don't fall behind on pain medication. You don't want to be in a situation where you're hurting and can't get relief. You're not going to get addicted to it and you need it right now. Try to eat as much as possible. I know you can't keep much down, but just do your best with food, okay? Smoothies and protein shakes are okay if nothing will stay down—heck, even milkshakes. Just whatever to get some calories in you. At the very least, make sure you stay hydrated. Callie knows what to keep an eye out for as far as complications go, but you tell her the truth all the time. If she or Danny ask how you're feeling, it is your job to tell them everything. None of this "I'm fine" stuff. Now, I think that's it. The drive home is probably going to be rough—"

"I imagine so," Danny interjected. "He gets carsick anyway."

Dr. Pace paused. "Really?"

"Yes," said Steve. "I can do boats, planes, helicopters…I can't do cars when I'm not driving."

"Huh," Dr. Pace said. "That's interesting."

"Or annoying, depending on your perspective," Steve answered.

Dr. Pace nodded. "I'm sure," he said. "Okay. So the ride home may be difficult. It's almost time for your next dose of both medications, and I'm going to give you a little more than you've been getting. That may make things easier. How's your headache right now?"

"Tolerable. It's just a headache right now, not a migraine."

"That's good. Now, let's get that medicine and get you out of here."

* * *

Steve's eyes were fluttering closed by the time Danny and Callie and eased him into the backseat.

"Danny, you drive," Callie said, handing him Steve's truck keys. "I'll sit with him."

Steve leaned against the door heavily, attempting to curl up on himself. The sunlight was torture.

"Come here, Steve," Callie said gently. She pulled him toward her so he could rest his head on her shoulder. "We'll be home soon."

"'Kay," Steve mumbled. "'M sleepy. 'S bright." He grimaced.

"I know. You just sleep, okay? Just sleep."

Even asleep, he moaned with every bump and pothole.

"I'm sorry," Danny said to Callie, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. "I know he's hurting."

"It's not your fault, Danny. He's okay, I think."

"I hate this for him."

"Me too," Callie said sadly.

* * *

By the time they arrived at Steve's home, the headache had turned into a debilitating migraine.

"Steve, we're home," Callie said softly as they pulled into the driveway. Steve was clinging to her as he clenched his teeth. For the last fifteen minutes of the ride, his pain-filled whimpers and gagging had been constant. Danny and Callie's nerves were shot.

The vehicles already in the drive indicated that Chin, Kono, and Lou were already inside.

"Maybe I should have told them not to come," Danny told Callie. "But I didn't know what to say. I feel like we're the gatekeepers, you know? My job is to protect him, but I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings either."

"It's fine, Danny," Callie said with a reassuring smile. "They care about him, too, you know. They want to be here."

"I know. I just feel responsible for all this, you know? I want to make sure he's as well taken care of as possible."

"Danny," Callie said carefully. "We've been over this. There is no reason for you to feel responsible or guilty. It happened. It was his instinct to knock you out of the way, and I bet if it happened again he would do the exact same thing. That's who he is."

"I know," Danny sighed. "I know."

"Okay then. No more guilt. I know that's easier said than done, but I'm serious. We're going to have our hands full enough with him without feeling guilty. That goes for what we tell everyone else, too. If he's not doing well, we say no. If he doesn't want to see someone, we say no. We can do this—all of it—without guilt."

Danny turned off the truck engine as he thought about what Callie had said.

* * *

"Steve," Callie whispered. "We need to get you inside."

"No. Hurts," he groaned, not turning loose of Callie yet. His eyes were shut tight and he pressed his face into her. "Need a minute."

"Okay, babe. Just take a deep breath, okay? Try to breathe through it."

She shared a look with Danny. "Bad one," he mouthed to her. Callie nodded, frowning.

* * *

Danny walked to the porch where the others had gathered, already sensing something was off. "Hey," he said, rubbing his hands together.

"What's going on, brah?"

Danny sighed. "Rough ride home. He needs a minute." He walked inside the house. He closed the blinds, and turned off the tv and lights before going upstairs to get Steve's pillows and a blanket. He came back down, grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, the trash can from the bathroom and deposited his armful of items on the couch.

"You look like you're a pro at this, Danny," Kono said quietly.

Danny gave a tired smile. "I've had a little experience the past two weeks. I'm going to go help Callie now."

* * *

"Hey, babe," Danny said softly when he got back to the truck. "Do you think you can move now?"

"Dunno," Steve mumbled.

"Well, let's try, okay? Do you feel sick?"

"Mmhm."

"Got it. Just keep your eyes closed."

Danny motioned to Lou to come over. "He's bad," Danny told him. "We may have to carry him. Do you mind helping me?"

"Of course not," Lou said, making sure to keep his deep voice quiet.

"Alright, buddy, Lou's gonna help us, okay? Let us do all the work. Don't tense up—that'll make it worse."

"Hurts, Danno."

"I know, buddy. Let's get inside and see if we can make it a little better."

Very carefully, Danny and Lou helped Steve from the truck and slowly made their way to the house.

Steve sighed in relief when they made it to the couch, Danny helping him ease from sitting to laying. Callie grabbed some towels from the linen closet and wet them with cool water. She folded one and laid it across Steve's eyes, and put the other on the back of his neck. Mercifully, he fell asleep then.

* * *

An hour later, Steve's eyes opened slowly. He blinked hesitantly, waiting to see if the pain was going to come back.

"Hi," Danny whispered from his spot on the floor. He had been sitting beside the couch in case Steve needed him.

"Hi," Steve whispered back.

"You back with us now?"

"Think so."

"Good. It's almost time for dinner. We were just talking about it. Is there anything that sounds good to you?"

"Kamekona and Flippa offered to bring shrimp sometime," Kono volunteered.

"Can we wait on that?" Steve asked hesitantly. "I just…don't want anyone else here right now. I'm sorry."

"That's fine, Steve," Chin said. "Don't apologize at all. And you know we'll leave, too, if you want. Don't worry about hurting our feelings or us getting angry. We're ohana, brah. We're just concerned about you. We'll do everything we can to help, even if it means being kicked out for a while."

Steve smiled. "Thanks, Chin." He shifted on the couch. "And you guys are fine being here. I need people….just not a lot of them quite yet. I love 'em all, but I just need a little time, you know?"

"Not to mention those boys are loud. And don't know when to leave," Lou said.

"Isn't that the truth," Danny agreed.

Callie came in then from the lanai. "Hey!" she greeted softly but excitedly when she saw Steve was awake. "Beau, buddy, look who's awake!"

Beau raced into the room, scanning it before his eyes landed on Steve. He bounded over to him, covering his face in puppy kisses before Steve could stop him. "Whoa, big guy," Steve said, laughing.

Chin chuckled. "He's a great dog. He has missed you a lot, Steve."

"Thanks for getting him from the office and staying here with him," Steve told Chin. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Glad to do it."

"Okay, I hate to interrupt this reunion, but we need to decide about dinner. Steve, thoughts?"

"I don't know. I'm kind of afraid to eat, you know? I'm so tired of soup, yogurt, and toast though."

Callie thought for a minute. "What do you think about getting Japanese food, Steve? The rice would probably be okay….well, as okay as anything is right now."

Steve thought for a second, then nodded. "Yeah," he said as Beau climbed up to lay beside him. "Let's do that."

* * *

The friends sat around the lanai after dinner, Steve declaring that he'd spent two weeks inside and he needed the ocean air.

Danny watched him as he lay on the lounge chair and grinned. Steve had taken his latest dose of pain medication a few minutes earlier. "You feel good, babe?"

"Mmmhmm," Steve murmured, opening his glassy eyes to stare at Danny. "Why're you looking at me?"

"Oh, just wondering what I should ask you this round."

Steve groaned. "Shu'up, Danno. You know I can't help it."

"That's what makes it so fun, Steven. I'm just glad no foreign countries know about this issue that you have when taking Dilaudid. You would have given away all kinds of classified information."

Steve laughed lightly. "Prob'ly right Danno. I can handle truth serum, but I can't handle this. You know it's the only thing that really works for me for pain, right? So when I was active, anytime I was injured they'd have to have someone my rank or higher sit with me to make sure I didn't answer any questions I wasn't supposed to. It still made me just as sick then as it does now and every bit as loopy. The worst was when I had a pretty bad concussion after a roadside bomb exploded in front of us." Steve grinned at the memory. "Wade Gutches was my keeper that time and wanted to kill me. I'm a little surprised he didn't."

"I'll have to ask Wade for the full story," Danny said.

Steve waved a hand at him. "Don't. He'll just get mad again and talk about how he should kick my ass again."

"What did you do?" Chin asked. "Wade seems like a pretty calm guy."

"Oh, he is. I'm just not a good patient. It had been a battle of wills all day, with the concussion and all. Then they had to do field surgery to get some big pieces of shrapnel out," Steve lifted his shirt and turned to the side, showing them the large scar that ran down it, "and I was hurting and really sick and way out of it. And it was hot—God, it was hot, and there was a sandstorm. Even inside you couldn't really get away from it because there were no windows. Sand was in our mouths and eyes and ears, and it blistered your skin. It was one of those times when we'd had a really rough go of it, and things just sucked, you know? Nothing was going right and everybody was on edge. Then the Taliban came through the village where we had holed up so I could be patched. We couldn't give away our position because this village contained a lot of friendlies and a firefight wasn't a good idea."

Steve paused to take a sip of water. The team was listening with rapt attention. He rarely shared stories from his days of service.

"So, by that point, I was long gone, higher than a kite. I couldn't stay quiet and couldn't be still, and they were literally right outside the house where these kind people were allowing us to hide. I remember the medic telling Wade I was going to tear my brand new stitches or give away our position or both. So Wade just lays down on top of me, right? Like full on, head to toe body contact. And I didn't like it and was mouthing off to him, so he covered my mouth with his forearm. And I lost my shit a little over that and…I bit him."

"You _bit_ him?" Danny asked incredulously.

"Hell, yeah. He was all in my space and he was holding down my arms and legs. You know how you poke your finger at my chest? I've told you I don't like it. If I don't like that, I definitely didn't like him lying on top of me."

"How did he react?"

"Eh," Steve waved his arm again. "He squealed. Like, this high pitched, girly squeal." Steve was giggling now, which made the story even more funny. "Taliban probably thought it was a kid playing or something. So the rest of the team just about died laughing because of the squeal, and Wade got even more pissed than he already was because they were laughing at him, and he punched me. Like, square in the jaw punched me." Steve was still laughing. "Naturally, I punched him back and so there we were, rolling around on the dirt floor of this house and him telling me that he didn't sign up to be a fuckin' SEAL so he could babysit and cussing the others for still laughing. The medic is yelling about my stitches, and yelling at Wade to stop, and Wade's going, 'He bit me! He fuckin' bit me!' And this was a family's home, right? So there all four of them are, watching all this happen, and the kids are wide eyed at these idiots who are rolling around on the floor, wearing camo and dirty and bloody." Steve shook his head.

He took a deep breath. "You should ask Wade to show you his scar sometime." He dissolved into another fit of giggles.

"Alright," Steve said, slapping his hand against the chair. "I'm done. Help me up, Cal?

As Steve went up to bed with Callie's help, the group was laughing hard, wiping eyes, and wondering what else there was to this commander of theirs.


	6. Chapter 6

The doorbell rang at 10:00 the next morning. Callie and Danny looked at each other in dismay.

"Who the hell is that?" Danny asked.

"I don't know," Callie said tiredly. "I'll get it."

"No," Danny said, standing up. "Let me. I got more sleep than you did last night."

Callie scoffed, but remained seated, clutching her cup of coffee.

"Oh, good morning, Governor," Danny said, opening the door.

"Hi, Danny," she said with a smile. "I went by the hospital, but they said Steve had been discharged?"

"Yes, yesterday afternoon. I'm sorry we didn't call you. The trip home was pretty hard on him…"

"Please don't apologize. He should be your concern, not making phone calls. I completely understand. I don't want to bother any of you, but I just wanted to check on him and see how he's doing."

"He's…okay. As good as can be expected. The neurosurgeon says he's doing well, all things considered, but it's going to be a long recovery. He's having trouble with the physical part of it—the migraines and nausea—but, amazingly, he doesn't have any deficits. There's no memory loss, the occupational therapist cleared him completely and so did the physical therapist. His motor skills—both gross and fine—are good, math and comprehension skills are fine…He has amazed them all." Danny shook his head in wonder. "He gets tired really easily and is dizzy almost all the time. The doctor has put him on pretty much constant bed rest for the next couple of weeks."

The governor nodded. "Yes, I had read that in the medical leave report Dr. Pace sent over." She paused and smiled. "How's that going?"

"So far, he doesn't feel well enough to fuss about it. As soon as he feels better though, we're going to have a hell of a time keeping him down."

The governor laughed. "I can imagine that."

"Would you like to come in and see him?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother him."

"No, come on in. It's fine." Danny led her through the house, talking as he went. "He's in the downstairs guest bedroom. That's our solution for resting during the day."

"That's a good idea," the governor nodded. "I wouldn't want people in and out of my personal bedroom all day."

Danny laughed. "Me either, that's why Callie and I decided this would be best. Plus, this way, he doesn't have to go up and down the stairs so much. Now, you have to remember—he's on some major pain medication, so you can't really hold him responsible for what he says. He's incredibly honest right now and he runs the gambit between being talkative and funny to quiet and overly-emotional to incredibly ill-tempered and mouthy—more so than usual, I mean." Danny chuckled. "Anyway, you never know how it's going to go, so just be prepared."

Danny tapped on the partially closed door before pushing it open. "Hey," Danny said to Callie, who was sitting with Steve. "Is he good? The governor's here."

" _He_ can hear, Danno," Steve replied cheekily.

Danny rolled his eyes at the governor and then walked in with her.

"He's pretty loopy right now," Callie said with a smile.

"How are you, Steve?" the governor asked.

"My head hurts and I throw up all the time, and I really don't like throwing up. It's nasty. And it hurts. And my head hurts." He paused. "Did I tell you that already? And Danno won't let me have grape popsicles anymore. They told me to stop saying I'm fine, because they know I'm not or something, so I can't lie anymore. So, I'm bad—that's how I am."

"I'm very sorry to hear all of that." The governor looked at Danny and Callie and tried to hide a smile.

"And they're not being nice to me. It's terrible," Steve whined to the governor.

"How are we not being nice, Steve?" Danny interjected.

"Not talking to you, Danno," Steve replied, his eyes not moving from the governor's. "Anyway, not nice. Very bossy. No grape popsicles." Steve shook his head sadly. "It's like prison, but worse, because the wardens here don't allow yard time."

"I forgot to tell you how dramatic he could be," Danny told the governor.

"Nobody likes you, Danno," Steve deadpanned.

"I like Danno," Callie teased.

"You don't get a vote," Steve said, closing his eyes.

"Who gets a vote then?" Callie asked.

"Just me," Steve mumbled. "Gonna sleep now. 'M tired."

"Okay, babe," Danny smiled. "We'll be here when you wake up."

"With popsicles?"

"Maybe."

"'Kay. Love you, Danno."

"Love you, too, superSEAL."

The three chuckled softly

* * *

Later that day, Danny surveyed the scene in front of him. Somehow, after the governor left, the news that the commander was home had spread and the doorbell and phone hadn't stopped ringing all day. Not to mention the fact that the living room had exploded. Fruit baskets, flowers, cards, balloons, and gifts rested on every flat surface. And food. There was food everywhere. The fridge was filled, as well as the counters.

The constant barrage of visitors and deliveries was overwhelming to Danny, who was healthy. To Steve, it had become too much.

He had been lying on the couch when the revolving door started. At first, he was okay. But the more the doorbell rang and the more people talked, he wasn't.

"Cal," he choked out. "Cal."

When he got no answer, he vaguely remembered her telling Danny she was going to go pick up a prescription and more orange juice.

He could hear Danny on the lanai talking to someone.

His house was full of people, _loud people_ , and not a single person was paying attention to him. The pain was becoming unbearable, and no one even knew.

When Kono and Chin walked in, the living room was empty except for Steve who was curled into a fetal position on the couch, sniffling, with tears running down his cheeks. His hands were at his temples, clutching so tightly that his nails had made little half-moon shapes on his skin.

Kono quickly knelt beside of him. "Hey," she whispered. "Hey, boss. You okay?" She felt stupid saying that, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Mmm," Steve moaned, unable to form words at the time.

"Tell me what to do."

"Bd," he slurred.

"Bed? You want to go to bed?

"Mmm."

"Okay. Chin?"

Carefully, they hauled Steve to his feet and helped him to the bedroom. They gingerly put him to bed, and he quickly curled up in the same position before, moaning softly.

"Where the hell is Danny? How did things get this out of control?" Kono said softly to Chin.

He shrugged. "When I talked to him earlier, he said it had become like a revolving door of visitors. I guess he felt like he couldn't tell people no?"

"But look at Steve. We've got to get everyone out and find his meds."

"You stay with him. I'll go find Danny."

"Oh, hey, Chin," Danny greeted as Chin walked out onto the lanai. He was talking to Duke and a couple of men from HPD. Kame and Flippa were sitting in chairs near the beach; Max, Jerry, and Eric had made plates and were eating at one of the outdoor tables. Chin had scooped up the ringing landline on the way out of the house and hoped the doorbell wouldn't sound until he got back inside.

Chin smiled and nodded at the group. "Danny, can I see you for a minute?"

"Sure." Danny followed Chin back into the house. "Brah, what's going on? It's like a zoo here."

"I know," Danny looked at the floor. "After the governor stopped by, I guess people found out he was home? I don't know. I've been dealing with the phone and deliveries, and then people started dropping by." He continued walking to the living room. "Where's Steve?" Danny said worriedly. "He was trying to sleep when I moved everybody out to the lanai."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, brah. He's in a bad way. He was in a lot of pain when Kono and I got here and asked to go to bed. Is it time for pain medication again?"

Danny checked his watch. "No. He has another hour to go."

"I'm not sure he's gonna make it another hour without relief. Where's Callie?"

"Pharmacy," Danny said as he hurried to the bedroom. "Shit. This is my fault."

"We need to call her and see what we can do," Chin said.

Kono was gently wiping Steve's face with a cool cloth when the two men walked in. Without hesitating, Danny climbed right onto the bed with Steve and leaned against the headboard, putting a pillow in his lap and cradling the other man. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Mk it stp," Steve ground out, not opening his eyes. "Plse." He whimpered.

"Okay, okay, babe. Shhh," he whispered.

"Cn't stand 'is. Hurrrs, Danno."

"I know. I'm gonna fix it, okay? I'm so sorry."

Kono grabbed her phone and dialed Callie, quickly explaining the situation and counting on her to find a solution for their boss.

After making a call to Dr. Pace, Callie arrived and gave Steve an additional dose of pain medication, which successfully ended the pain and allowed Steve to finally uncurl and relax.

"Shit, shit, shit," Danny said, pacing the room. "This is my fault."

"Danny," Callie said patiently. "I'll agree that it got a little out of control, but that's not really on you. You moved people out to the lanai, you answered the phone, you handled the door. It was just too much for him today. Even though he's doing well—remarkably well—we have to remember he has a traumatic brain injury. That's major stuff. He's not going to bounce back like he always has in the past, and we're going to have to get through some rough spots. This is hard for him too. As time goes on, he'll be able to identify triggers for the migraines and will be able to tell us before they come on so we can act a little faster. You have to remember too, this is his first full day without pain meds by IV. It's different."

"You're really good at these speeches," Danny said. "You almost make me feel better."

Callie laughed. "Let's just learn from it and move on. He's sleeping now, and it's okay. We just need to watch him a little closer, even though he feels like we're suffocating him already."

Danny rolled his eyes. "He's going to love that."


	7. Chapter 7

By the end of the week, things were improving slowly at the McGarrett house. The migraines were beginning to lessen in severity, and, in turn, the nausea was better too. He was able to move around a little more, but was still under strict order from Dr. Pace to rest. While Danny and Callie were thrilled with his progress, their jobs were becoming substantially harder. A slightly better but still unwell SEAL wasn't exactly easy to manage.

"I'm going to die from boredom," Steve said from the couch three nights later. The entire ohana had come over for dinner, and they were sitting and talking in the living room afterwards. "From boredom and inactivity."

"Pretty sure that's not possible, superSEAL," Danny replied.

"I'm pretty sure it is. People aren't meant to stay this still for this long. It's unnatural. My muscles are atrophying as we speak. So is my IQ, for that matter. I've never been bored, never _had time_ to be bored, and now I am. It sucks. I can't read, I can't watch tv, I can't use the computer, I can't run, I can't swim, I can't do martial arts. Hell, I can't have sex, or even-."

"Steve!" Callie said quickly.

"Sorry. No filter right now."

The group laughed.

"It would be a great night for a round of truths!" Kono said suddenly.

"Truths?" Max said.

"It was something we started when Steve first hired us. We started hanging out together…and drinking. It started off as truth or dare, but then we decided that wasn't any fun, so it just became truths." She got up and went to Steve's liquor cabinet, pulling out shot glasses and a couple of bottles. "Am I ok, boss?" She asked permission.

Steve waved his hand, "Fine. You know where everything is."

"I'm not getting the _really_ good stuff, just the good stuff. Anyway, so here's how you play: Each person gets to ask a question. You can either answer—hence the name "truths"—or you can take a shot. Choice is yours. Who all is playing?"

Before anyone could answer, Danny added, "If you don't play, you have to leave the room. That's rule number one. Rule number two is that you can't lie. Rule number three is that this is a bonding game, not a game to gather information and then give it to an outside source."

"Also," Chin explained to the newcomers, "you can't get upset. This is just fun—no feelings are allowed to be hurt."

Kono also pulled a pile of papers from the liquor cabinet. "Here's our cheat sheets. If you can't come up with questions, look here for ideas." She put everything on the coffee table. "Boss, you're playing, but you're obviously not drinking. Pretty sure you're high right now anyway, so that negates you having to take shots." Kono grinned. "You're always the most honest one anyway."

"It's just because he's not shy and knows nothing about modesty," Danny said. "That's probably a Navy thing."

Steve shrugged.

"All right," Kono said. "Y'all want to let one of the newbies go first?"

The original four of Five-0 nodded. "Lou, you're up."

"So I just ask a question?" Lou said, picking up the list. "Hmmm…Ooh, I like this one: Have you ever been in a friends with benefits situation?"

Jerry: "No."

Danny: "No."

Chin: "No."

Steve: "Yes."

"Wait," Danny said. "Does that surprise anyone here?" The group laughed.

Callie: "No."

Kono: "Yes."

"Again," Danny said. "No surprise there either."

Max: "I'm not quite sure what that means, but I believe my answer would be no."

"Sex, Max. Have you ever had an arrangement when you slept with a friend, but you were both of the knowledge that you would never date?" Steve explained.

"Oh. I see. Then, yes."

The group roared with laughter.

"Okay, Jerry. Your turn."

"Umm…"Jerry said. "Biggest fear, phobia, or weakness?"

"Closed spaces," Danny said quickly.

"Spiders," Callie offered.

"Carsickness," Steve said.

"Snakes," Kono said.

"Being buried alive," Max said.

"Mice," Lou said. He pointed at Steve and Danny. "No laughing."

"Alright," Danny said, rubbing his hands together. "I'm up. Nobody's going to drink if we keep going with the easy questions. So. What's your most embarrassing sex story?"

"I'm drinking," Callie said, taking a glass.

"Me too," Jerry and Max chorused.

"I think I'll decline to answer as well," Lou agreed.

"Pansies," Danny complained. "Come on, someone has to give an answer."

"This one's all you, McGarrett," Chin said, taking a shot.

"Are you okay with this?" Steve asked Callie.

Callie grinned. "I'm actually looking forward to it."

"Fine. I was at Cornonado. It was after we'd graduated from BUD/S but before shipping out. A bunch of us were at a bar, and—like always—it was crawling with frog hogs—"

"Whoa," Grover held up his hand. "What, pray tell, is a frog hog?"

"Eh. A SEAL groupie, pretty much. They want to date, or at the very least sleep with, a SEAL," Steve explained.

"But the name refers to frogs, not seals? Why the difference in animal?" Max questioned.

Steve rolled his eyes. "It's not SEAL, the animal, Max. It's an acronym for Sea, Air, and Land—you know, where SEALs operate. And it's 'frog hog' because SEALs can be referred to as frogmen because of the amount of time we spend in the water. Google it or something."

"You had groupies?" Danny asked.

"Yes, Daniel. There are only around 2,000 SEALs. It's an elite group. We're in high demand." Steve smirked. "Now, moving on: So this girl approaches the table and makes it clear that I'm her choice. We talk, and drink—a lot. She's really pretty and she's southern—she has this great accent. She wasn't like the typical frog hog and I like her—I normally refused to have anything to do with them. One thing leads to the next, and we end up back where she's staying—she mentioned she was visiting family. Things went… _well_ and I ended up falling asleep. We woke up the next morning to someone knocking on the door, saying, "Jules, honey, Grandma has breakfast ready…for you _and your friend_ " and I realize that _I know that voice._ She was visiting her grandparents, and her grandfather was one of the BUD/S instructors. I think my heart stopped."

The group was laughing. "What did you do?" Jerry asked.

"Well, obviously, I was not going downstairs for breakfast. Jules thought it was hilarious. I scrambled, got myself half way put together, and headed out the window."

Chin was dying. "The window, brah?"

"I was out of options, Chin! Not to mention I was horribly hungover. I scale down a trellis, scratching my arms all to pieces with some kind of ivy that was growing there, and as soon as my feet hit the ground Commander Jones said, "Son, just what are you doing?" Quick thinker that I am, I tell him I'm practicing my E and E—escape and evade—maneuvers. He laughs—laughs!—and tells me to get inside, that if his granddaughter who was twenty-four years old thought I was good enough to sleep with, I was good enough to have breakfast with them. Jules is laughing from the open window, yelling, "He's a really sweet guy, Granddaddy!

Man, I wanted to crawl under a rock. The mortification didn't stop there though. Commander Jones said he'd known someone was in his house all night—'Once a SEAL, always a SEAL, son'—and had picked up on my voice during our, uh, time together."

Danny was howling. "'Once a SEAL, always a SEAL, son!'"

"Yeah," Steve continued. "It was a good time." He grinned. "So I ate breakfast with them, her grandmother cleaned and bandaged my scratches, and Jules said I'd made her trip. She's still a good friend, and any time I'm in Coronado I meet up with the Joneses for dinner…or breakfast. And Commander Jones still uses my story when he talks about E and E maneuvers."

"Boss, I don't think there's any of us that could top that one," Kono mused.

Their game continued, as well as the laughter, late into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

The phrase "one step forward and two steps back" could be used to described what happened next.

Steve woke up the next morning feeling that something was wrong. He was fine lying down, but the minute he sat up, the constant headache changed from tolerable to unbearable.

"Callie," he nudged her. "I don't feel good."

"What?" she snapped awake. "Tell me what's going on."

"Bad headache. Worse when I sit up. I'm tired, Cal." He curled into her, wanting the pain to go away.

"You're a little warm, too," she said, gently touching his forehead.

He sniffed. "My nose is running."

A feeling of icy dread took up the space in her stomach.

"All right," she said decidedly, trying to remain calm. "Let's get up and get dressed. I'll call Dr. Pace. He can meet us at the ER."

"Why?" Steve asked groggily.

"Because I'm afraid you're leaking cerebrospinal fluid," she said softly. "Now, come on, commander. Let's get going."

* * *

Dr. Pace greeted the trio at the ER doors. He had already commandeered a wheelchair and helped Callie and Danny lower Steve into it, then headed immediately for a room.

"Has anything changed since you talked to me last?" Dr. Pace asked Callie.

"The headache seems worse, and his balance is definitely off," Callie answered. "He has been sick a couple of times."

Dr. Pace nodded. "It does sound like a CSF leak, but I think you caught it quickly. Once we get him settled, I'm going to give him fluids and medication for pain and nausea through the IV. We're going to do some tests, then we'll figure out what we're going to do."

The testing lasted throughout the morning, and Dr. Pace confirmed his diagnosis. "With CSF leaks that come from trauma, a lumbar drain can be very effective. We'll try that first, and if we don't have success with it, we'll talk about other options."

"Tell me about the lumbar drain," Danny said. "I haven't heard of that before."

"It's a surgical procedure," Dr. Pace began to explain. "We'll put a tiny drain in his lower back that will lead to a bag so we can measure the amount of spinal fluid he's losing. We'll keep him on complete bed rest for three to five days. He has to lie completely flat. He'll be able to have a pillow but that's it; we won't be able to raise the bed or let him sit up at all. I know it sounds scary to say that someone is leaking cerebrospinal fluid, and it is serious, but the best treatment for this is bed rest. We'll give him fluids and caffeinated drinks to help with the headache, and we'll keep him comfortable." Dr. Pace looked grim. "He probably isn't going to be very happy for the next few days."

Callie nodded in agreement. "I'm sure. What will this do to his recovery time? He was doing so well."

Dr. Pace sighed. "It's going to lengthen it, I'm afraid. We're not back to square one, but it's a substantial setback."

Callie winced. "I was afraid of that."

"Again, I need you and the rest of your friends to keep a close eye on him for signs of depression. This isn't going to be easy for him. Get him to talk to you, or I could arrange for someone to stop by if you prefer. My suggestion is to keep a constant presence. You need to let him rest, of course, but you also need to make sure he doesn't feel alone in this. "

Danny smiled. "Oh, we can do presence."

The next three days were long and hard on everyone, but the ohana persevered, and the CSF leak closed on it's own without requiring surgical intervention. Steve was discharged after the third day with the same instructions from his last hospital stay—rest.

* * *

Prone to headaches anyway, Steve struggled with the constant pain that often turned into a migraine. He was exhausted from it. Dr. Pace chose to increase his pain medication which, naturally, made the nausea worse. His throat was sore, and his shoulders and back ached from heaving. He was tired all the time and felt foggy from the Phenergan.

In short, he was miserable and it was beginning to wear on him. The fact that his team had a case and Callie was returning to work was just icing on the proverbial cake. And then there was Danny's stupid SEAL Sitting calendar that he had _labeled_ as such and hung on the fridge. There was also a medication schedule, a list of do's and don'ts, and a list of Frequently Asked Questions. _What the hell._ Then, just to emasculate him a little more, as if he didn't feel enough like a child already, there was a folder with daily checklists for his caregivers to fill out so Danny would know what had gone on during the day. What time he got up, naps, how long he slept, what he ate, if they walked any, his disposition…even a section to tally how many times he threw up.

He knew Danny was just trying to be helpful. He knew his friends were giving up their time to sit with him, and he was grateful, he really was. But he was just so tired of this. He wanted to scream or cry or both just out of sheer frustration—forget the physical pain. He couldn't work out and exercise was what had always calmed him. He needed that. Running or swimming gave him an outlet, a way to compartmentalize and deal with things. And now he was in what felt like the biggest battle of his life, and he had no way to cope. He was tired of this, and there was no end in sight, and _damn it all to hell_ _he was thisclose to just losing it._

Callie had been watching him as she got ready. His eyes were closed, but his face was tense and he was squeezing the sheets in his fists. She mentally prepared herself for the conversation she was about to have, praying for strength and patience.

"I know you don't like this, Steve," she said softly. "But it's going to be okay."

"Sure," he snapped. "Who's going to be babysitting today while everyone else's life goes back to normal? I forgot to check Danny's calendar." There was malice and frustration in his voice.

"Steve…" she trailed off, her heart breaking for the strong, independent man who was having to rely on others even to walk. "Do you want me to stay? Would that be better?"

"No," he choked. "You have patients and you've already been off so long."

"I can take a leave of absence. Maybe that's what I should have done in the first place."

"It's fine, Callie."

"It's not, Steve, and I'm sorry."

"Well, it is what it is, right?" He turned away from her.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jerry will be here today," she told him gently. "I'll see you this evening, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Just go, Callie."

"I love you, Steve. Don't forget that."

"Love you, too."

The only sound she heard as she left the room was his quiet sniffling, as he once again felt more alone than he possibly ever had before.

"Take care of him today, buddy," she whispered to Beau as he curled up beside Steve.

* * *

She stepped out of the master bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her and taking a shuddering breath. Danny happened to be leaving the guest bedroom at the same time. As they walked down the stairs, she shook her head. "I don't know what to do, Danny," she said. "He's in a bad place."

"I know," Danny said. "He seems to be drifting further and further away."

They both greeted Jerry at the door. He had an armful of books, what looked to be rolled maps, and an iPod with very large headphones. "Hey, guys!"

They both smiled at him tiredly.

"So…not a good morning?" Jerry questioned.

"No," Callie shook her head. "And you may be in for a rough time today, Jerry. I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'll be fine. What's going on with Captain America?"

Callie smiled at Jerry's nickname for Steve. "He's just having a hard time with all of this. He still doesn't feel well, still hasn't been cleared for anything, the CSF leak was a setback, and…he's struggling, Jerry." She sighed. "I really think you're the best person for this today, Jer. He'll be better for you than anyone else."

"Thanks, Callie. You both have a good day. I'll look after the commander."

* * *

Beau raised his head and sniffed as Jerry walked into the bedroom with a tray. He hadn't moved from Steve's side.

"You have to eat something, Commander," Jerry said. "Look, I've made waffles, scrambled eggs, and bacon. I've cut up a bunch of fruit. You don't have to eat everything…just some of it."

Steve didn't even raise his head off the pillow. "Not hungry, Jerry."

"Okay. I get that. But you have to take your medicine, and you have to eat with it or it will make you sick."

"I'll get sick anyway as soon as I move my head."

"Again, I get that. But Detective Williams said—"

"Screw Detective Williams, Jerry! If I don't want to eat, I'm not eating. Just check it off his damn list and move the hell on."

Jerry stilled himself and took a deep breath. "Okay, Commander. I brought your medication and some juice. I'll leave the plate here just in case you decide you want it."

Jerry handed the pills and juice to Steve, who dutifully swallowed them. "Do you need to check my mouth to make sure I actually took them? Is that on Danny's list too?"

Jerry shook his head, not sure what to say. "Do you want me to stay in here?"

"No."

"Okay. I'll be right downstairs if you need me."

"Great. Thanks, Jer." Steve sighed and closed his eyes.

The rest of Jerry's day went just as unsuccessfully. Steve refused lunch, took his medicine, and then went back to sleep. Jerry suggested playing cards, taking a walk, sitting outside on the lanai…and was quickly turned down each time.

"I'm fine, Jer. You can go downstairs."

Beau looked at Jerry with sad eyes. He knew something was wrong.

By the time Callie got home from the office and the team arrived, Jerry was beside himself with worry. "He's…different today," he told them. "He won't eat, won't talk. He has been polite, but not happy, you know? You can see a difference in his eyes—there's no light there today. He's just not himself."

"I know, Jerry. I got that feeling this morning too. I'll talk to him." Callie started to walk upstairs, but Danny stopped her.

"Let me go," he said. "It sounds like he's in a mood and needs to vent. He won't yell at you. Luckily, he doesn't have that problem with me. Let's see if we can get him sorted out."

"Be easy with him, Danny," Kono said. "This is a hard time for him. You're dealing with a person who can't stay still, and he's been told he can't do anything _but_ that for weeks."

"I know," Danny said, heading up the stairs. "I've got this."

"Lord help us," Lou said in his low voice. "McGarrett's going to kill him."

"I'd say that's a good possibility today," Jerry agreed.

* * *

"So, SuperSEAL," Danny said as he climbed in bed next to Steve, making Beau scoot over. "Tell me what's up."

"Why don't you tell me why you're always in my bed lately?" Steve replied sourly.

"Because I love you," he said simply. "Now, tell me what's going on. Jerry tattled on you. No eating, barely any drinking, no talking, sleeping too much…" he trailed off.

"What else do I have to do, Danny, other than sleep? I'm tired of making small talk, tired of babysitters, tired of everyone else getting to go on with their normal lives and I fuckin' _can't_. I _can't_ for a long time. I'm just _so tired_ of all of this." There was anger in Steve's voice, but also a weariness that Danny couldn't bear to hear.

Danny sat quietly, thinking about what to say. His partner seemed close to tears, so a yelling argument wasn't in order. He needed a gentler approach. "What if we think about the positives?"

"What positives?" Steve scowled.

"Okay," Danny was using his soft voice, which was disconcerting to Steve. "First, all things considered, you're doing well," Danny raised his hand before Steve could argue. "Ep, ep, ep. I'm not finished yet. You are doing well. You're doing great, in fact. You survived a traumatic brain injury and a fractured skull. You made it through brain surgery. Brain surgery, Steven. You have no cognitive impairments from this. Your motor skills, even your fine motor skills, are okay. Do you know that's unheard of with your type of injury? So, babe, you're doing okay. Yeah, it's going to take you some time to get back to yourself. I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I'm sorry you're hurt. I know you've been through a lot, and I know it isn't over, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry the recovery is going so slow. I know you're tired and you're hurting and you're sick. But just hang on, okay? It's going to be slow, but you'll get there. You're already doing so much better than what Dr. Pace predicted that night. That night….God, that night I was so scared. I don't know if I've ever been so terrified. We didn't know if you were going to wake up. We didn't know who you'd be or what kind of deficits you would have. And for you to have done this well? Even with the setback, it's a miracle, Steve. You'll get there, I promise, because I'm going to make sure of it."

"I don't know that I have it in me, Danno," Steve confessed, tears in his eyes. "I can't do this much more. I can't hurt like this, feel this sick, this useless. I can't."

Danny pulled him close. "Okay. Then you don't do it. Put it on me, babe. You lean on me. Lean on all of us. We're here for you."

"I'm so tired. So tired," Steve's voice hitched.

"I know you are," Danny said, kissing the top of his head. "Sleep for a while, babe. Then we'll eat dinner and figure out a way to make you feel better, okay?"

"'K, Danno," Steve mumbled. "Don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, babe. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Callie tapped on the door a little while later. She smiled at the scene before her, and Danny smiled back. "Hi," she whispered, crawling onto the other side of the bed. "Should I be jealous?"

"Heck, yeah," Danny grinned, then sobered. "We've got to figure something out, Cal. He's struggling. We need to make sure he's getting out as much as he can. Heck, I'll even go swimming with him. There are ways to get him active without raising his heart rate too much. He doesn't need to feel like we're babysitting him either. I'm throwing all that shit on the fridge away. That was stupid of me. He needs someone with him, and he knows that, but there's a better way of doing this. Let's order dinner and get to work. We're going to find a way to fix this."

* * *

"Thanks, Governor," Danny was saying on the phone. "Yeah. I think it'll be best for everyone too."

Danny grinned at the others. "Let's go, guys. We have work to do."

* * *

When Steve woke up, Callie was beside of him. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," she whispered back, smiling and kissing him gently. "You feeling better?"

"Some."

"Let's get you in the shower and then we'll head downstairs. Danny said he was picking up something for dinner."

Steve nodded his agreement.

Once he was dressed, Callie helped him downstairs. Beau cheerfully followed, then snuggled right back up against Steve's side as he lay on the couch.


	9. Chapter 9

Steve was still lying on the couch when the team walked in with boxes.

"Hey, boss," Kono said, leaning down and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Beau." She dropped a kiss on the dog's head as well.

"Hey," Steve replied softly. "What's going on? Callie said you were going to get dinner, but…" he trailed off, frowning at the boxes that were coming into his house.

"We're moving in," Danny said, heading to the dining room. "We'll get dinner later."

"What?"

"Dinner later. Moving in now. Welcome to the new Five-0 Headquarters."

Steve shook his head as much as the vertigo would allow. "What?" he repeated, confused.

"You're being very slow, babe. Until you are back to the office, this is headquarters," Danny answered.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Oh, but it does. The governor thinks it's a great idea. You're not well enough to go to the office every day, but that's a physical thing, not mental. We work better as a team. This way you'll be able to work some, but you can go to bed when you need to. If there's a day when you're not feeling up to it, you tell us and we'll leave you alone. We'll still work from here, but you can stay upstairs and we won't bother you."

"This is stupid." Steve scowled at Danny. The others continued carrying in boxes, listening to what they knew was going to be an argument but not daring to get in the middle of it.

"No. It's not."

"It is. You can't move everything here."

"We can." Danny argued as the others kept carrying in boxes. "Chin's working on setting up phone lines and the computer. We won't have the tech table, of course, but that's not a big deal. We all have our laptops and we can use a projector if we all need to see something at the same time. It's a done deal, babe."

"No, it's not. You can't just hijack my house, Danny."

"I can. I did."

"No."

"That's not even an argument, babe."

Steve huffed. "My God, Danny, do you just find ways to make things worse? To make sure I know how much of a burden I am, how much everyone is changing everything for me?"

"What are you even talking about, you putz?"

"I'm talking about every fucking day of my life, Danny! I'm not able to do anything on my own! Nothing! Do you get that? I have a babysitter here every damn day. People are missing work, missing out on things, because they feel like they have to be here!" Steve's voice was hoarse, but he was louder than he had been in weeks. He was angry, and as much as Danny hated it, he felt relieved by it too. At least Steve was showing emotion. "I realize that I need help. I get it! There's not much of a way for me to ignore that. But I do not need anyone to tally how many times I throw up in a day! _D_ o _you understand that?_ And I don't need _my task force_ working from my house just so they can keep an eye on me! Contrary to what some people may believe, my brain was not damaged! Injured, yes, damaged, no! Fuck! I'm tired of this! God, if I had something to throw at your smug-ass face I would."

"You done now?"

"Shut the fuck up, Danno," Steve said, breathing hard. All the anger pouring out of him left him tired and drained. It had been cathartic.

"If it would make you feel better, I'll let you hit me. You did take that baseball bat to the head for me. It's the least I can do. One good punch. Only one though."

Steve huffed, but gave Danny a tiny smile. "Shut up, Danno." He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, babe. Guys, get in here. I know you've been listening but letting me take the heat."

The others, caught, shuffled into the living room.

"Now, I have a few things I want to address with you," Danny said. He had moved to sit on the coffee table right in front of Steve. "And I want the others' input as well. You said you were a burden. Is there anyone in this room that feels that way?" Danny looked around to prove his point. "Okay, no hands raised. That's what I thought. You are _not_ a burden, Steven. You are our friend, our partner, _our_ _brother_. _Not a burden."_ Steve started to speak but was stopped by Danny raising his hands. "Nope, you don't get to talk yet. You had your say, now I get mine. Or we get ours, rather. Let me tell you this: If I—or anyone else in this room—was hurt or sick, I know _for a fact_ that you would be doing everything that we are, probably more. You've done it, babe. You've never once left any of us. Never. So why do you think we would do any less for you? You're not as deserving of care as we are? Bullshit. You're going to have to get over yourself, babe. We're in this for the long haul. What you're going through sucks, but—let me remind you—you're going through it because _you saved me from it._ There is not a single one of us who look at this as a burden or a hardship or as something we _have_ to do. We _want_ to do it. We finally get the chance to care for you the way you're always caring for us."

The others nodded in agreement. "He's right, you know," Lou said. "I'm normally not a fan of agreeing with Jersey, but he's right this time."

"I will admit, I may have made a mistake with all the stuff on the fridge," Danny conceded. "But in my defense, it's because I'm so damn worried about you and feel so guilty. You sacrificed yourself for me babe, and I need you to be okay."

"Danny, that's not—" Steve started, but Danny held up his hands.

"Still not your turn, babe. Now, about us moving HQ here. I'm speaking for all of us when I say that the office isn't the same without you. It doesn't feel the same, babe. We've all talked about it. When I brought the idea up to the others and the governor, everybody was excited about it. Not just okay with it—actually excited. You get me? _We want to be here._ Last thing—you said we were giving up doing stuff out of obligation to you—not true. I would be at home, in an empty house. So would Chin and Jerry. Adam's out of town on business. Lou's got two teenagers at home—he practically begs to stay here all the time. And Callie? Well, she seems pretty smitten with you—not that I understand why—so I'm guessing that she'd be here regardless. So when I say, _there's nowhere we'd rather be_ , I mean it, okay?"

Steve looked down, avoiding Danny's eyes.

"You got it? We good now? No more feeling sorry for yourself about people actually loving you and taking care of you."

"Yeah. Let us do this for you, brah," Chin said in his quiet, calm voice, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Okay," Steve said quietly, the anger from earlier gone. "I'm sorry for being an ass. I'm sorry for—"

"Boss, there's nothing to apologize for," Kono interjected.

"Nooo!" Danny howled. "Kono, if he's apologizing and calling himself an ass, you DO NOT STOP IT! This will never, ever happen again! Now, Steven, continue. I'd love to hear the rest." Danny grinned.

Steve made a face at Danny. "I am sorry, though, guys, and I appreciate all you've done, and are continuing to do, for me. I really do. It has just been…hard, you know? I'm not used to asking for help, and I have to have help with pretty much everything right now. I'm tired of feeling bad, and it's just wearing on me."

"We understand, brah," Chin said. "But talk to us. Don't shut us out. We're ohana."

Steve gave a small, tired smile. "I know. I love you guys, you know?"

"And we love you too," Danny said. "So you're good with this being HQ?"

"Yeah. It's good."

"Great," Jerry said. "Can we get dinner now? I'm starving."

* * *

The group ordered Chinese food for dinner and ate on the lanai as they sun began its descent.

"It's gorgeous here," Lou said. "There's surely nothing like this in Chicago. The beach in your backyard." He shook his head. "Man, you are one lucky fella."

Steve gave a small nod from where he was curled up on a lounge chair with Callie. "I know. This is all I knew growing up, you know? Falling asleep to the sound of the waves every night, spending every day out here. I never took it for granted, I don't guess, but I never realized how much I loved it until I was in Afghanistan. It was so…barren. So dry and hot, and the sand just went on forever." The group watched as their leader drifted, lost in a memory. "There was one really tough mission…it involved an orphanage. The whole op had just sucked, then on the way back our convoy got blown all to hell. I called my dad after we finally made it back to base and begged him to take the phone out to the ocean so I could hear the waves. I just…needed the sea, you know?" Steve smiled as he remembered. "It was the middle of the night here and I scared him to death. I hadn't even thought about the time difference. He never questioned me, though, and sat at the water's edge until I'd had my fill. The next week I got a package. He'd made a recording of it—just hours and hours of the waves and birds." He snuggled further into Callie's arms, laying his head against her shoulder. "That tape got me through so many rough times. It's still in my bug out bag."

"I remember John telling me about that night," Chin said. "He told me he was going to make that tape. I thought it was such a great thing."

"Yeah, it really was." Steve closed his eyes as he leaned into Callie. "I never called home often enough. Being downrange…the opportunity for us didn't come around often. We had to…stay focused on the mission, you know? We couldn't take the chance of being distracted by something back home."

"He knew that, Steve," Chin said kindly with a smile. "He was so proud of you and your career."

"Thanks, Chin," Steve sighed. "Anyway, yeah, Lou. I know how lucky I am."

The friends smiled at each other, glad their leader had shared something with them. They were all lost in their thoughts as they watched the beautiful Hawaiian sunset.

* * *

"So, boss, what time do we need to be at work tomorrow?" Kono said teasingly as the sun finally sank below the horizon.

"Mmm. What?" Steve said sleepily.

"Sorry! I didn't realize you were asleep!" Kono quickly apologized.

"It's fine. It's all I do lately," Steve yawned and blinked tiredly. "I can't stay awake. What did you ask?"

"What time do you want us here tomorrow?"

"Nine? Nine thirty?" Steve gave a small shrug.

"Who are you?!" Danny exclaimed. "When have you EVER told us to come in at nine o'clock?"

"When have you ever been working out of my house?" Steve countered.

"Fair enough," Danny acknowledged. "I'm not complaining, by the way. I think nine is perfectly acceptable. Much more so than eight."

"Alright, then. I'll see you fine ladies and gentlemen at nine o'clock in the morning," Lou said, getting up to leave. "I'll bring breakfast."

"We need to be heading out, too," Chin said as he motioned to Kono and Jerry. He smiled down at a once again sleeping Steve. Danny had retrieved a blanket from inside and was covering him with it carefully. "You two take care of him."

"Will do, brah," Danny said with a smile.

Callie smiled up at Chin, Kono, and Jerry. "Always," she said, smoothing her hand against Steve's hair. "Thank you for all you're doing for him. Y'all are amazing."

"Nah," Danny said, watching his partner sleep. "He's the amazing one. We're just along for the ride."


	10. Chapter 10

Working out of Steve's house ended up being the best thing they could have done for everyone involved.

Their case load was fairly light. Miraculously, they managed to all catch up on paperwork. Steve didn't have much stamina for computer work or reading, but scrawled his signature as needed and helped Danny with wording. After years of filling out After Action Reports in the Navy, paperwork didn't bother him. He was actually pretty good at it. How else did Five-0 manage to have the largest budget and seem to never be told no? When Lou was with SWAT, he hated Commander McGarrett for it, but even he had found himself nodding along once when reading one of Steve's proposals. The man had a gift, that was for sure, and now that he's on the same side, well, he's grateful. Danny typed while Steve talked, and they knocked out several reports that needed to be finished.

On Thursday, the team arrived one by one and, as had become a daily habit, gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. As Danny was pulling out plates and silverware, Callie came in.

"Hey, Callie," Jerry said. He noticed she was wearing street clothes instead of her regular scrubs or dress. "Are you off today?"

She gave him a tight smile. "Steve's been awake since three with a pretty bad migraine. My patient load was pretty light today, so I decided to take the day to be with him."

"Has it eased up any?" Danny asked.

Callie shrugged. "A little. He's resting now, but I don't think it's going to be a good day for him." She shook her head. "He has a follow up appointment with Dr. Pace today anyway. Small blessings, I guess."

"Pull over," Steve said quietly, eyes shut and face tense.

"What?" Callie asked, looking sideways at him. "Are you okay?"

" _Pull over_ ," he said again, pressing his hand to his mouth and unbuckling his seatbelt.

"So you're not okay, then," Callie muttered, pulling the Jeep to the side of the road. Steve managed to get out of the SUV before being sick.

"Aw, babe," Callie said softly. She gave him a minute before getting out and going to him with a bottle of water. "You finished?"

"Think so," Steve mumbled, swishing the water around in his mouth and spitting it out. "'M sorry. Migraine and being carsick—was too much."

He was still doubled over, hands on his knees, taking deep breaths to quell the remaining nausea. Callie gently rubbed his back. "It's fine, Steve. Don't apologize, especially when it's something you can't help."

He leaned into her, allowing her to take some of his weight. "'M so tired of this," he mumbled. "Just wanna feel better."

"I know," she said sympathetically, still rubbing his back. "I know."

"Hi, Steve," Dr. Pace said as he entered the exam room. He shook Steve's hand before leaning against the edge of the table. "How are you?"

"Mm," Steve said softly. "Not so great." He had opened his eyes when the doctor came in, but closed them again after a couple of minutes and pressed the heels of his hands against his temples.

Dr. Pace frowned at Callie, looking for more information. "He's had a pretty bad migraine since around three this morning," she said in explanation. "He gets them a few times a week. He's still struggling with nausea and vertigo, too."

"Please fix it," Steve whispered. He fought to open his eyes. Dr. Pace was taken aback by the pain and weariness in them.

"Other than the migraines, how have you been feeling? Any other symptoms or concerns?"

"Cal," Steve mumbled. "Can't... Will you….?" He had closed his eyes again and was leaning against her, his head on her shoulder. He couldn't bear to speak right then.

"Fatigue to the point of exhaustion, trouble sleeping, difficulty concentrating. He says he feels slower than normal, mentally, and it takes longer to process things. I haven't really noticed that so much, but for someone who was in Naval Intelligence I guess he knows exactly what he should be capable of. He still can't work on the computer, read, or watch tv for any length of time. Some days, of course, are better than others, but on the really bad migraine days he's not able to form complete thoughts, talk, or even raise his head from the pillow. The recovery has been longer than he thought it would be, he isn't making the progress he wants to see, and he's struggling. The medication you prescribed doesn't seem to prevent the migraines, and nothing except Dilaudid helps with the pain. He doesn't like taking it because it makes him so sick and loopy. He has to choose what he feels like is the lesser of the two evils, the pain or being sick, you know?"

She realized Steve had dozed off and held him against her a little tighter.

"I want to do another round of MRI and CT scans, just to be safe, but I believe Steve has developed post-concussion syndrome. I knew this was a possibility because he has had several concussions in the last few years. The symptoms you've described are all encompassed by that diagnosis." He carefully regarded his patient. "He doesn't look good at all today. You said this migraine started at three?" Callie nodded. "That's coming up on twelve hours. I'm going to give him Dilaudid through an IV, as well as fluids, and let's see if we can get him feeling better."

"How will you treat the post-concussion syndrome?" Callie asked.

Dr. Pace sighed as he prepared the needed items for the IV. "I know he doesn't want to hear this, but honestly, rest and minimizing stress is the best treatment plan. We'll tinker with his prescriptions to see if we can control the migraines and pain better. He has to give his brain time to heal. I want to see him again in two weeks."

It was Callie's turn to sigh. Two more weeks of Steve being unable to work or exercise seemed like an unbearable eternity.


	11. Chapter 11

Danny was pacing. He'd been waiting for a long time to hear something from either Steve or Callie and no one had called him yet. He was tired of waiting. He wanted to know what the doctor had said about Steve. Pulling out his phone, he shot a text to Callie:

 _So what'd the doc say? You coming home soon?_

After a few minutes, Callie texted back:

 _Nothing good really. Leaving the office now, tell you all about it when we get there._

Danny frowned. _Steve better? Migraine go away?_

 _No. Got an IV of Dilaudid and fluids. I'm going to need help getting him in the house. He's way out of it._

 _Got it. See you in a few._

* * *

"Hey, babe," Danny said as he opened the passenger door. "How you feeling?"

"Sleepy," Steve mumbled, trying to get his eyes to focus.

"Yeah. Let's get you inside and you can take a nap, okay?"

Steve nodded and Danny helped him get to his feet. He swayed slightly, closing his eyes against the dizziness.

"Whoa, babe. You okay?"

"Yeah. 'M good."

"Yeah? Cause you look like death."

"Sh'up, Danno."

* * *

After Steve was settled on the couch, the rest of the team came in from the dining room.

"He has had an IV of Dilaudid," Danny told them, grinning. "If you want to ask for a raise, or extra vacation time, or new office furniture, now is probably the time."

"Stupid," Steve grumbled, pulling a blanket over his legs and almost immediately falling asleep.

"Now, Cal. What'd the doctor say?" Danny asked, giving Callie the floor.

"He has developed post-concussion syndrome. It causes dizziness, nausea, migraines…all sorts of things, really. The only treatment is pain management, avoiding stress, and rest. Dr. Pace said it may take up to six months or longer for it to go away."

"Ah, hell," Lou said. "I knew he wouldn't be cleared for the field, but I had hoped he'd at least be on desk duty. He's tired of all this. He's going stir crazy."

"I know," Callie agreed. "But his health is the most important thing. He's just going to have to be patient."

* * *

And to everyone's surprise, he was. He followed Dr. Pace's instructions to the letter. He got enough sleep, didn't get too involved in cases, and remained unusually zen-like. It was strange to watch, and the team made bets on how long it would last. No one bet on more than ten days, but, shockingly, he proved them wrong.

When they questioned him about it, he shrugged. "It's pretty clear I'm not going to get better if I push myself. I'll just take it as it comes. It's my brain, you know? A TBI is serious stuff. I'm not going to cause permanent damage just because I want to get back to normal. I can wait til I heal completely."

They were impressed by his sensibility.

As time passed, he gradually got better. The severity of migraines lessened, then the frequency. He had been prone to migraines in the past, so he knew he would never be completely free of them, but that was okay. Little by little, the symptoms disappeared. He was able to work out again, and that made a huge difference in his mood and outlook. The nausea and dizziness were no longer his constant companions, and he was able to eat normally again. He gained back the weight he'd lost and the muscle as well.

Nearly six months later, he was given the green light to return to work with no restrictions. The day after, he chased and tackled a suspect. Looking like the picture of health, he popped right back up. Danny released the breath he felt like he'd been holding for months as he took in the sight.

As he hauled the man to his feet, Steve smirked at Danny. "Book 'em, Danno."

Danny grinned. His partner was back.


End file.
